At Least Once
by Ghost Lover
Summary: Felicity can't watch Oliver leave the foundry to face possible death without at least telling him what she feels. Alternate ending to the foundry scene in 3x09. Spoilers for that episode and it will probably help if you've seen it first.


"And the second thing?" Felicity stated as she attempted to keep her voice steady for just a moment longer.

Oliver paused for a moment, almost as though considering his response. With a few slight tilts of his head he finally looked her directly in the eye. "I love you" was all he said, as though those three words didn't send Felicity's gut plummeting to her toes. Before she could even retain any focus Oliver was walking away, highly possibly walking towards his death.

"That idiot", Felicity mentally chided. She was stunned and horrified and so in love all at once, but she couldn't move, she couldn't make herself go to him just to watch him die. As her consciousness started to clarify Felicity noticed motion in her hand, even if she wasn't aware of it. She rubbed her thumb and index finger together over and over nervously, a bad habit she never realized she had. The repetitive motion, the feel of skin on skin brought her back to herself slowly. Then the motion brought her back completely with an abrupt start. Realization struck her. This wasn't her bad habit, it was his.

She had seen him do this a million times, of course, the image was completely clear. Square clenched jaw, broad shoulders locked with tension, and the repetitive motion of thumb and index finger slowly rubbing together to keep him grounded. When had she started doing it too? And how had she not noticed? Was Oliver really so a part of her, so inextricably linked with her, that she hadn't even known she'd adopted his little idiosyncrasies? And could she really watch him walk away towards a duel with one of the deadliest men to ever live?

Questions flooded her brain and she panicked with the stream of possible outcomes. If she told him now, would he never come back? If she didn't would she never get the chance? She stood frozen, watching his back as he reached the bottom of the foundry stairs. His satchel bounced with each long, confident stride, and she noticed his hand clench and unclench at his side. She could identify each spot on that hand calloused from the repetitive use of a bowstring, and just like that she knew. She couldn't let him leave like this, not with a kiss to the forehead and a one-sided "I love you".

"You idiot" she stated, out loud this time, just as his right foot hit the bottom stair.

He paused briefly with his foot still between stairs and then he placed it down. With his left hand he grasped the handrail and let his shoulders slump.

"Felicity" he nearly groaned.

She ignored his response. "You cannot do this to me Oliver. You can't finally tell me you love me and then walk away before I can even answer!"

He turned slowly at that statement, his eyebrows slightly raised in question.

"You must know I love you too right?", she exhaled the words as one long sigh. "I don't expect you to stay, in fact I know you have to go, but I needed you to know at least."

She saw the almost imperceptible tilt of his head in understanding and she nodded in return. Tearing her eyes from his intense, steely blue gaze she turned away. She touched the cold steel table with her left hand to ground herself; she wouldn't watch him finish his walk up the foundry stairs. As she slightly bent over, almost as if in pain, she took shuddering breaths and tried to calm her fiercely beating heart. She was so focused on taking slow, even, breaths she almost didn't hear the clomp of boots approaching behind her. A hand grasped her should, turned her, and then wrapped her in a firm and well-muscled embrace.

"I would never leave you willingly" Oliver stated, his voice full of anguish.

"I know. You have to do this." she responded as she forced herself to push back from his arms. The raw emotions and desperation she saw in Oliver's face were her undoing. If he was going to this duel, she'd give him something to live for. And if he were to die she would give herself this memory to cling to every night for the rest of her life.

Her hand found its way to the rough and bristly strands of hair at the back of his neck and she slowly raked her nails downwards. She felt heat pool in her center at the darkness that suddenly filled his eyes. His breathing picked up, and for a moment she imagined he'd tell her to stop, but then he was kissing her. Her world narrowed to his lips caressing hers over and over, relentless in their pursuit. She desperately returned his kiss with equal fervor and finally plunged her tongue between his willing lips. "God, he's good at this", she thought before thinking was no longer an option. She felt her back meet the nearest pillar as his rough hands simultaneously caressed her sides underneath her shirt, never breaking the kiss. She was so wet, already, and all he had done was kiss her. She needed him inside her, now.

"Oliver", she moaned as she ripped her mouth from his. "Please".

Thank God for his playboy history, or maybe it was just their understanding of each other, as he knew exactly what she needed. Maybe he needed it just as badly. He pulled his shirt over his head as felicity started on his pants, reaching her hand in to feel his fully hardened cock straining against his boxer briefs. She felt him gasp more than she heard it and redoubled her efforts, stroking him from base to tip several times.

She felt his control snap as her hands were snatched up and placed above her head on the pillar behind her. She squirmed until he took the hint and released her hands to finally free her of her dress and him of his remaining layers. Her first view of all of him was amazing. He was fully hard, everywhere, and she moaned again at how badly she needed him.

His hazy eyes raked over his body as though he had imagined this moment just as many times as she had, and she finally let herself think that maybe, just maybe, he had. He stroked his hand lightly across her breasts and down her stomach, finally stroking through her folds and inhaling deeply through his nose at how wet she really was. His glance at her then confirmed what they both knew, this was it, there was no going back. In a move, that Felicity could never really tease apart later, Oliver grasped the back of her thighs, lifted her and sunk into her all at once. The sensation was nearly unbearable. She was so full, whole was probably the better word, and so consumed by her feelings for Oliver.

"We shouldn't have waited", she found herself saying "Oh God, Oliver"

"That doesn't matter, Felicity. Not now. Just this matters, only you matter. I love you so much. Jesus, Felicity. You feel so good. It's never been like this." Oliver was shaking she realized, maybe she was too, it was hard to distinguish now. After he started thrusting in and out of her everything blurred. It may have been over embarrassingly quick but neither of them could really be sure. She was relatively certain they both said they loved each other as they came.

Foreheads pressed together they caught their breath. Her breasts were pressed firmly against his warm chest and her hands desperately clutched his back. Neither of them smiled. They knew this wasn't the beginning, as it should be, and it wasn't exactly a goodbye either. This was both a promise, should he live, and a washing away of past mistakes. This one regret wouldn't hang over her if he never returned. At least they had this night. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips then pulled his clothing back on as she silently put her dress back into place.

He pulled her back into his embrace quickly, kissed her forehead, and then followed it with a heated kiss on the lips this time.

"I love you", he told her, eyes full of emotion.

"I love you, too" she replied with eyes full of tears. "Now, go be a hero."

She saw the hint of a smile that crossed his lips as he finally looked away from their intense stare. This time she didn't turn away, she watched him mount every stair and open the door to exit the foundry. At least there would be nothing left unsaid between them. The warring emotions of despair and remnant elation from their coupling battled within her and she only knew one way to make the world slow down. She sat abruptly in "her" chair and booted up her computer. Even if she couldn't save him, at least she knew that with a computer at her disposal, there was always some good she could do.


End file.
